Midsummer

Thunders photograph

The hills and the valley,

The sun time is strong

And the magic is brilliant,

The skies open wide

And the passage appears.

Beyond is the Astral,

Old mighty Neptune,

The waters of extasy

And the powers of dreams,

Hanging lianas

Of hopes, of ideals, 

Mountains of fears, 

Deep shade of the moon. 

The depths are of eye sight, 

While crawling inside, 

The full empty vessel 

Shall dance in the night. 

And light is not stopped, 

But filtered by windows, 

As frames to pause flowing

Till far away seasons. 

The thunders rage freely

And mark longest days, 

What lays past the gate

It's time and it's space.